


Just a Breath Behind

by Mia_Zeklos



Series: Eyes as Old as Time [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: M/M, Torchwood One, pre-Torchwood One really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2546663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/pseuds/Mia_Zeklos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stories about joining Torchwood are rarely simple, and Ianto's isn't any different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Breath Behind

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted last night on FF.net for Halloween, so posting it with a bit of delay here. I hope you like it and, since it's the first time in a while I've written Eleven and the first time ever I've written Ianto from the years before Torchwood One, I'm rather nervous about it so any feedback would be appreciated.

There was some disturbance around his desk, Ianto realised belatedly and looked up from the piles of paper sheets with his own notes that he'd spread around. He was trying to revise for his exam and everyone had apparently decided that the moment was perfect to bother him as much as possible.

A sound joined the rattling he'd heard a second ago and Ianto frowned as he stood up. Right in front of his desk, a man was crouching near the ground while holding something that looked like a pen and had a small green light at the end. It also seemed to be the source of the wheezing.

"You alright there?" Ianto asked cautiously. The stranger nodded absently, then looked up and his eyes widened in shock.

" _Ianto_?" His eyes were green enough to make the man in question stare at them inquisitively perhaps a moment longer than it would have been strictly necessary.

"Sorry, have we met?" Ianto didn't want to be rude but, as attractive the guy was, he was sure he'd never seen him before. And he was certain that he'd never forget something like  _that._

The man was, by the looks of it, just a few years older than him and had light brown hair that fell into his eyes. He was tall and skinny and his face was just a bit too angular, but Ianto felt an appreciative smile settle on his face. "Can I help you?"

"You're a _librarian_? No, no, wait." He pointed down at the desk. "You're a student." He seemed deeply conflicted and Ianto wondered if he knew him after all.

"A bit of both, actually."

"A librarian  _and_  a student?" The man leant in conspirationally. "Are you okay? Is somebody holding you as a hostage?" When Ianto just stared at him, dumbfounded, he lowered his voice even more. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I can help."

Ianto stared some more, then burst out laughing. "Believe it or not, I'm not held here against my will. The general idea of higher education is that you're here by choice. Had to take up the job as a University librarian, though. Need the money." He'd decided that it was the perfect idea – he could study and earn enough money to keep studying without even having to leave University grounds. People visited the library all the time and rarely disturbed him when he studied, and when they did, he always knew where everything was.

It was also a great way to meet all sorts of people. Such as this guy, as weird as he was. As Ianto focused on him again, he saw realisation dawn in the man's eyes and suddenly, he seemed to be looking differently at him. "You knew my name," Ianto pointed out and he nodded. "Where from?"

"I've, uh, we have a friend in common, I'd say. She told me about you and that you could find me any book from any bookstore. Didn't expect you to be... what you are, though." Some hidden meaning was lurking below the surface, but Ianto couldn't quite catch it. He groaned as the words sank in.

"Don't tell me you've talked to Susan. Never trust anything she says about me." Susan was a good friend of his – one of the best he'd acquired since arriving in London four months ago – but she also had the phenomenal ability to exaggerate everything beyond belief. "Well, as you've been told, I'm Ianto Jones. Are you a student here as well?"

"Yes!" The reply was just a bit too enthusiastic, but Ianto didn't pay much attention to it. "I'm– I'm the Doctor."

"Ah. Medicine, then. Glad to see you're so eager about it." The medicine lot were all rather weird, he'd found. The Doctor – Ianto decided that he didn't need a different name for now, as that one suited him for whatever reason – smiled and then gestured at his papers. "What about you?"

"History. Right now, the Roman and the Byzantine Empire's religious conflicts."

"History. How fitting," the Doctor muttered and Ianto raised an eyebrow."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."

"So," Ianto smiled, leaning in over the desk. Revisiting could wait. The political wars between several popes and patriarchs in the matter of a few decades weren't nearly as interesting as the company he'd found himself with. "What did you want help with?"

"Ah." The Doctor seemed lost for words for a while before deciding, "Actually, I didn't need help with finding a book. It was just– you read a lot. Or, well, you look like someone who reads a lot. I wouldn't know. I was wondering if this looks plausible to you for a..." he gestured around himself with the pen-like thing. "...futuristic technical device. A scanner, maybe."

Ianto took it from his unresisting hands and rolled it between his fingers. "'S nice. How did you make it?"

"I'm good with special effects. And, you know, I needed a costume for tonight. Yes! Tonight. Halloween and all."

"Yeah," Ianto said, trying to stifle a laugh. "I know. Your costume seems fine, though. You have nothing to worry about. What with– well, everything you've put on."

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked, affronted. It was kind of cute and Ianto's efforts to keep it together were futile against that expression.

"Your clothes are," Ianto pointedly looked him up and down and tried to be diplomatic, "Interesting. Why would you pair a tweed jacket with a bow tie?"

"A fashion specialist now, are you." It' wasn't a question and Ianto's smile widened. "Some things never change. The jacket is warm. Bow ties are cool."

Ianto shook his head; laughter still on his lips. "Whatever you say. I've got an invitation for a party on campus tonight," he started. He was thinking about bringing Chad – his roommate – along, but, well, if something better came along... "You've got your costume already. Are you feeling up for it,  _Doctor_?"

The man closed his eyes and mumbled under his breath something that sounded a bit like 'Jack is going to kill me' before he nodded. "Sure. See you here at eight?"

Ianto beamed at him. "It's a deal."

**o.O.o**

"While I'm still not sure that this isn't some sort of  _really_ elaborate joke–" Ianto hissed as yet another person passed by the closet they were currently hiding in, "I think I'm inclined to believe you after that thing you pulled with the machine."

There was – according to the Doctor – an alien in the room. Not someone dressed as one, but an actual alien that had followed him from three galaxies away. Yes, him – because the Doctor wasn't from around here as well.

"How can you still doubt me after everything you saw?" The Doctor's voice was just as low as his own and Ianto could barely make out his features in the darkness. "You saw the sonic in action. You saw the alien. You saw the TARDIS. We appeared fifty miles away from where we were in the matter of seconds!"

"That was a neat trick, I'll give you that," Ianto admitted. It wasn't that he didn't believe him at this point; he just wanted to rile him up. He did that to people for his own amusement more often than he liked to admit.

"A  _neat trick_?" Ah, there it was. Ianto grinned at him in the darkness. They were here because the alien was in the room and the Doctor thought that it'd smell him, and Ianto had no objections to hiding in a stuffed closet with someone like him. "Like I said, some things never change."

"You keep repeating that," Ianto said, sobering up. "And, well, you've got a time machine." There was no response, but the Doctor seemed uncomfortable. "You know me, don't you? In the future."

"I know you in the future, yes," the Doctor muttered, avoiding his eyes. "Well,  _your_  future. It's in the present for me."

The fact that an alien knew him well in the future should have been worrying, but Ianto realised that he was actually rather excited about it. "Tell me more."

"I can't."

"Why not? Give me anything. A name, a number. I can't exactly break the future if I just know–"

"Just keep it down, will you?" The Doctor hissed. "What if it hears us? We need a plan!"

"There's so much noise in that room that most people can't even hear their thoughts. And, hey, two students who locked themselves in a closet... I assure you, no one's gonna open that door."

"You're unbelievable."

"I get that more often than you'd think."

The Doctor just huffed, irritated, and Ianto's smile returned.

They were in for a long night. And he didn't mind one bit.

**o.O.o**

"How are you feeling?" The Doctor asked as he touched – yet again – the bruise on Ianto's shoulder. It was hidden by his shirt and yet Ianto could  _feel_ just how blue it was already getting.

"I'm fine. Had worse, really. And that night was so much better than a party and dressing like James Bond." Which was all he'd had planned for tonight, actually, so it wasn't like he'd lost too much – even if he'd been nearly killed by an alien thirsty for revenge (not that either of them had understood what or who was being avenged, but it didn't make much difference to Ianto's shoulder either way).

"Won't your roommate worry about where you'd gone?"

"Nah." Ianto leant against the side of the TARDIS for support as his head started spinning again. "He's used to me going missing for a night or two. I've got a rather unfortunate reputation. I'll be fine," he tried to reassure again when he noticed the way the Doctor was looking at him. The man – that wasn't actually a man, as it turned out – gave him a sad smile.

"I can see you now," he said and reached to touch Ianto's cheek briefly. It was a rather fatherly gesture, and that was definitely more than Ianto could deal with at this part of the evening. "Year 4495. You were barely standing on your legs – and then you weren't standing on your legs at all – and you just kept repeating that you're fine. Some things never change."

"What did you say?" Ianto's interest had immediately returned. " _Year 4495_? Doctor..."

"I can't really say anything more now. You asked for a word or a number, I gave you both."

"I could come with you," Ianto blurted out and then looked down, uncharacteristically embarrassed with his impulsiveness. "You know. Travel for a bit. You seem lonely."

"One day, Ianto Jones," the Doctor said, the smile more cheery now, "one day, you're going to be the best I've got against loneliness. But for now, you've got to take your own path."

"Of course." It made sense, really; if they'd know each other in the future, it would probably crash the Universe if he was to take off with the Doctor now. And, hey, he had revision to do. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For all of that. Everything that happened tonight was... well, not going to lie, that was the coolest thing that's happened in my life."

The Doctor winked. He didn't seem used to doing it and he looked a bit like a thirteen year old flirting for the first time, but Ianto wasn't bothered. "One more thing," he said and then, before his newly found alien friend could do something about it, Ianto closed the distance between them and kissed him.

There was a moment of stunned silence before the Doctor grabbed him by his biceps and held him at an arm's reach, eyes wide and confused. Ianto had a feeling that people often had the urge to do what he had just done and probably most of them acted on said urge, so he didn't really feel all that bad about it. In fact, he was feeling better than he had in a while.

"What the hell was that for?" His voice was higher-pitched than before and, while it wasn't the usual reaction Ianto got after kissing somebody, it was flattering in its own way. "Now Jack is  _definitely_  going to kill me. Or you. I'm not sure yet, but if he's seen that, there will be blood. Or pictures taken. Not sure about that either."

"Who's Jack?"

"Spoilers," the Doctor assured him firmly. "Another spoiler: one day, you're going to really,  _really_ regret doing this."

"Kissing an alien on Halloween?" A rather nice-looking one, too, Ianto thought but decided not to bring his future self any more trouble. "I doubt that."

"I believe I've already said that, but you are unbelievable."

"I have a feeling that I'll hear you saying it a lot more in the future as well."

"You've never been closer to truth, Ianto Jones." And there it was again; that tender, almost protective look that Ianto supposed would be gained in the years to come. "I'll miss you."

"I'm just past that door, right?" Ianto asked sceptically. "It isn't really that hard for you."

"Yes, you're right there," the Doctor admitted. "But you're stuck on the slow path for now."

"More fun that way," Ianto assured him. "I've got something to look forward to."

And really, he did. For the first time in his life, Ianto Jones knew where he was going.

**o.O.o**

It felt like a bit of a déjà-vu when the next afternoon Ianto was yet again interrupted from the automatic memorising of names and dates, this time by a woman and two men that looked suspiciously like her bodyguards.

"Jones?" She asked, her blonde curls trembling around her face as he looked down at him. "Ianto Jones?"

"Britain's finest secret agent," Ianto responded with a rather obvious joke, but the smile died on his lips when she threw him a scathing look.

"Have you heard anything of the Torchwood Institute?"

He just nodded. Of course he had. Everyone had heard of them. The first thing that came to mind was that monster of an office building on Canary Wharf. Nobody knew exactly what was happening there, but no one dared to ask too much questions either.

What could an organisation like that want from a first year History student?

"We think you might have information that could be valuable to us." Her smile was wide and friendly and Ianto felt shivers running down his spine just from the sight of it. "And, of course, we are willing to give you a lot in return of said information."

"Does 'we' mean Torchwood, or is that the royal 'we'?" Another one of those looks. "I just have to tell someone that I'm going–"

"The necessary authorities have been informed."

"Okay, then," Ianto said and even to his own ears he sounded like he was giving up.

**o.O.o**

"The Torchwood Institute is an organisation that concerns itself with collecting the alien, the unknown, the unexplainable, and protecting humanity from it." Yvonne Hartman – which had turned out to be the name of the blonde woman – was pacing around the small office (they had taken him to Canary Wharf and Ianto was just a bit too nervous to be impressed yet). Ianto was sitting in a chair and followed her every move despite feeling the hands of both her bodyguards on his shoulders. "Last night," she started as she placed her hands onto the desk that separated them, "You've seen one of those things. Is that correct?"

He nodded.

"You sustained a minor injury, but you came out of it all right, am I right?"

He nodded again.

Yvonne glanced at one of the bodyguards and he handed her a photo which she immediately placed in front of him. "Have you seen this man?"

Ianto glanced down at the photo. A man in his mid-thirties, brown eyes, dark hair. He shook his head.

"No, sorry."

"I wouldn't imagine so, no. What about this one?" This time, the picture she placed in front of him was definitely the Doctor. "And think twice before lying to me, Mr Jones. My authority outweighs that of the police. The Institute has its eyes and ears everywhere."

"I met him yesterday," Ianto said carefully, his mind racing as he fabricated a cover story immediately. "In the library you took me from. We went to a party together, then we went home. To our respective homes," he hurried to add when she raised an eyebrow. "That's all."

"Did you learn his name?" Yvonne's voice was ever so polite, but Ianto could hear the edge under it. He'd anticipated the question, though, so his answer was immediate and self-assured.

"Richard. Richard Williams. He's studying to be a lawyer, I think. I might be wrong, though." There was, as far as he knew, a Richard Williams in his university and if – and when – they checked, everything would click into place. "Is that all?"

"Not really." Now Yvonne sat down opposite of him, that smile still plastered onto her face. "We interrogated several witnesses of your – accident last night. I heard that you dealt with the issue firmly without any victims and minimum witnesses, and that could always be a plus for a Torchwood employee. How would you feel about joining in?"

"I – I would," Ianto answered honestly. Because really, who wouldn't? It was  _Torchwood_.

The smile got even bigger. "Fantastic. We need someone in research, and I need a new personal assistant. Someone to cover up our tracks and hide any evidence of the– other life forms out there. Do you think you would be up for the job?"

"Definitely." He was trying to be as professional as possible, but he knew that it was rarely a promising expression on a nineteen-year-old.

His age didn't seem to matter, though. Not for Torchwood. Not if he could prove that he was good.

"Great. The only thing you need to know in-depth is the Doctor. We're going to have a presentation on that for the new recruits tomorrow. For now, though, this is what you must remember. This man," one of her long, perfectly manicured nails stabbed the picture of the first man she'd shown him, "is a threat to our world and our country. It is believed that he might be capable of changing his appearance. Is that understood?"

"No," Ianto said quietly, staring down at both pictures. Yes, he'd only known the Doctor for hours, but he would travel with him in the future. He would be a dear friend for him. He'd seen what he was capable of and he was there to save them, not kill them. "He's not–"

"He's not  _what_ , Mr Jones?"

Maybe the only way to protect him was to accept the job. Maybe one day, he'd be able to tell the Doctor to stay away. And maybe that was what had to happen for him to create that future for himself.

"He's not going to be a match for us," he said in the end. "Ma'am."


End file.
